Hong Kong and the Wonderful Lamp
by flaafo
Summary: Story time for the children! Unfortunately, there's too many questions and not enough time.


"I know it was unexpected, but I thought Alfred and...Wh...atever his name is-"

"Matthew?"

"Yes, Matthew. I thought they could have a play date with-"

"So you invite yourself over for dinner, aru?"

Clinging to England's pant legs were two very shy children. They stared into China's house with a thirst of curiosity. America, the braver of the two, squeezed past China's legs and stumbled into the house. He motioned for Canada to follow.

China looked backwards to watch the two totter around, looking for Hong Kong and Taiwan. "They're in the back room, aru," he said to the pair. They scampered out of site, and shortly after there was a clatter of pottery breaking, along with an "Oops."

England sheepishly grinned. "I'll pay you for that." China was not amused, but allowed England into his house.

Inside, there was a warm, familiar smell of cooking, the sound of shrieking children at play, and the old decoration that China had so dearly favoured for years. Across from him England noticed an armchair. It was suede, dyed red, and looked like it was barely touched. From this England found solace from the combination of unfamiliarity of his surroundings and the cold stare from China. He sank into it, then awkwardly looked to China. "So I'm guessing you don't like this chair?"

"It was a gift from you. Of course I don't, aru," China replied curtly.

England mulled over the sentence for a minute, settling on a perfect combination of words. "Then why do you keep it?"

A blush crept over China's face, and he huffed in exasperation. "You-"

At that moment, four little children ran out of the back room, distracting the two elder nations. Taiwan, the only girl, was in lead, stuffed tiger in tow, with America, Canada, and Hong Kong following her in that order. Taiwan tripped over her dress, falling flat on her face. Canada didn't see where he was going, and toppled over her. America skidded to a halt a smidgen too late and added to the dog-pile. Hong Kong was the only one who kept his balance.

Crying from the impact of the fall coupled with the two boys on top of her, Taiwan squealed to be free.

"I can't deal with this, aru. Kirkland!" China commanded, "You're keeping them busy, I need to get back to cooking before anything burns." He left the scene for England to clean up.

The Briton looked with a puzzled expression at the doorway from which China left, to the children, back to the doorway, and finally setting his gaze back on the children. "Alright, alright, don't cry. Don't-"

Taiwan wailed louder.

"Alfred! Get off! Matthew, you too. Buggering hell," England complained, getting out of the chair to pull apart the children. "C'mon, now. Quit your crying."

It didn't seem to pacify the child. Her crying only seemed to get louder.

"Oh, fuck all," he sighed to himself. England never was good with keeping children calm. Canada was constantly with France, and America was self-sufficient when it came to personal problems such as skinned knees or bruises.

"No, no, please stop crying! I'll give you a brand new toy? Candy? Anything! I just don't want-"

"What do you think you're doing, aru?" China scolded England, now in the living room to console Taiwan. He scooped her up in his arms, and that's all that seemed to be needed. "Honestly, I would think with all those colonies under you you'd know how to take care of children, aru." Carrying Taiwan into the kitchen, China offhandedly mentioned it was time to eat.

The kids were quite loud. America was trying to steal food from the plates of the other children, Hong Kong was pushing away Canada, and Taiwan was constantly tugging on America's hair. The adults were quiet, or at least quieter than the children. They sat chatting idly about political affairs, their livelihoods, and future plans. Their conversations would be paused to set the tiny colonies straight, keeping them from tearing apart the kitchen.

Once that was over, China shoo'd everyone out of the kitchen to clean up. England was, yet again, put on child watch.

Luckily, the children were sleepy from the meal, and were less prone to cause trouble (of course, this only meant they were _less_ prone).

"Alright you little ankle-biters, how am I supposed to keep you entertained?"

It was America who spoke first. "I wanna hear a story!" The others nodded in agreement. "Story!" "Yeah, a story!" "A story would be nice..."

England held up his hands in surrender. "Alright, I'll tell you all a story. But you have to be quiet during it, alright?" Enthusiastically, the children all sat in a circle around England, waiting for him to sit down and tell his story.

England sat down with the kids, ready to tell his tale. "Once upon a time, there was a fairy-"

"Ick!" America cried out. "Not another fairy story!"

Taiwan was pouting in disappointment. Canada looked indifferent.

"Okay fine. Once upon a time there was a dragon-"

The little girl shook her head no. "I can tell this one's gonna be scary." Hong Kong shrugged his shoulders.

"Once upo-"

Now Canada began to complain. "Do _all_ stories start like that?"

To say England was frustrated was an understatement. "I'm trying to give you what you want, but you're all so fickle. What story could I tell that all of you will enjoy?" He held his head in his hands, trying to think of a story without fairies, dragons, or once upon a time.

He peeked through his hands to look at the four. They looked back at him expectantly.

"Okay. Okay I think I have a story." He was told this story by a passing gypsy for several shillings. To keep the children entertained long enough, he'd include them in the story, and have them interact.

"Long ago, on the shores of an ancient city, there was a boy of the wharf. He was an idle boy, who had no trade. This made his mother quite distressed, for she was sure her son would grow up to be an outcast, or worse. His father, also concerned with his son, died in grief. This did not change the boy's behavior. He continued to play among the ships and docks."

"Psst," Taiwan whispered to Hong Kong, "This sounds like you." She giggled. Hong Kong stuck his tongue out at her. England heard the comment. Well, at least he had the "hero" defined, now.

"Now, this boy, while running with his friends, was stopped by a man in exquisite clothing, a famous magician in his homeland. 'My boy!' he cried, 'are you the son of Mustapha?' The boy replied, 'Yes, I am, but my father has passed.' The man fell upon the boy's neck and kissed him. 'I am the brother of your father! I have been traveling the world, and I was coming home to finally speak with my long-lost kin. Quickly go to your mother and tell her I am coming.' With that, he sent the boy off.

" 'Yes, your father indeed had a brother, but I had known him to be dead,' the boy's mother said. Nonetheless, she prepared supper and bade her son to seek his uncle."

America interrupted. "How'd he know the boy was his nephew?"

"I'm getting to that part," England said, hushing the child. "Just be patient."

"When he found his uncle, the man fell to his knees and kissed where Mustapha once sat. He bid the boy's mother to not be surprised to have never met him, for he had been away on travel for forty years. When he turned to his nephew to ask of his trade, the boy hung his head and the mother burst into tears. 'Alas!' she cried, 'my son is idle and will not take up a trade!' "

"I still don't know how he knew how he was related," America pouted. England continued as if he had not heard that.

"The magician, upon learning this, declared that he will teach the boy the trade of a merchant. The next day he went out and bought all that was needed to make the boy a fine merchant."

There was a pause (possibly for effect, in which case it didn't work). "How _did_ the magician know he was related, aru?"

England turned his head and noticed China leaning against the doorway with a skeptical look on his face. "No, get out. Go back to the kitchen. I'm entertaining these kids like you told me to, go do whatever you were doing."

"I can't ask a sim-"

"No, you can't."

China left in a huff. England turned back to the children, who were giggling in delight. "Your face is red, Mr. Kirkland," Hong Kong pointed out.

Coughing into his hand, England muttered out, "Yeah, okay, whatever." He straightened up and waved his hand. The children watched with bored looks. "Can I get back to my story?"

"So he took th-"

"What's his name?" Hong Kong asked.

"Who?" England hadn't mentioned any names because, well, he forgot them. He only remembered the father's name because it sounded funny.

"The boy," Hong Kong replied. He was sitting up tall on his knees to get a better look at England. "What's his name?"

England, trying to stall for an answer, ran his fingers through his hair and stretched. What _could_ he call the protagonist?

"Ooh! Ooh! Pick me! I know the answer!" America was waving his arm back and forth wildly and trying to get England's attention. He successfully smacked Canada in the face doing that.

"Alright, alright. Calm down. What do you think his name is?" England said, getting the boy to stop.

"Well this story's in China, right?" America said, attention now on him, "So that means the kid's Chinese? And he sounds a lot like what's-his-face over there?" He pointed to a displeased Hong Kong. "Name him that."

England looked skeptically at America. "Name him 'what'?"

"After the kid-"

"My name's Jialong-"

"YEAH that." America had such a way with words. And those words allowed Hong Kong to pounce America in a game of boyish wrestling.

England debated on letting the boys continue their little fight, but then he thought of how hard China hit. Already he could feel bruising just thinking about it. "Okay, that's enough fighting." He asked Taiwan and Canada to pull them apart.

"He's just stupid," Taiwan said as she tugged on Hong Kong's arm to get him to stop. "Come sit by me and we can listen to the story. Besides, you'd be the hero of the story."

Hong Kong shrugged and took Taiwan's advice.

"Wait wait wait I wanna be the hero!" America interrupted. "It's not fair why's he in the story?"

England would have pointed out that it was America who insisted on Hong Kong being the hero of the story, but somehow he knew saying that wouldn't appease the child. He sighed, but it was cut short when he had an idea. "Why don't I make it so you're all in the story?"

"The adults, too?" Canada asked.

"Yeah!" America agreed. "You know magic, you can be the sorcerer guy!" he said.

"But he's the vi-"

"Oh, Kirkland. You'd play the perfect part of the magician, aru," China called out from the other room.

England shot a glare to the doorway. "I bet you know this story, don't you?"

"Indeed, aru."

The Briton groaned inwardly. "Fine. _Now_ may I continue my story?"

"Yes! Yes!" the children eagerly replied.

"So he took the boy shopping for fine clothes and presents for his mother. When they arrived home, she wept joyfully at how handsome he looked.

The next day, the magician took Jialong-" Hong Kong cringed, "-to a beautiful garden outside the city gates. They sat by a fountain, where Arthur pulled a cake from his bag, breaking it in half and sharing it with the boy. Then he urged them to continue their journey to the mountains. Jialong begged for them to go home out of tiredness, but stories of fantasy and wonder from the magician kept him going. When they had reached their destination, it was nearly nightfall.

The magician said a few magic words, sprinkling a translucent powder across the ground. All at once the earth shook, frightening the child. A square stone with a brass ring with which to pull it away from the secrets it held.

'Listen to me,' the magician said, 'Beneath this stone is a set of stairs. Walk down these stairs, and follow the path until you come across an oil lamp. Do not touch anything but the lamp, for the treasure in this cavern is cursed, and you will surely die if you touch it. Take the lamp, poor out the oil, and bring what remains to me. Take this ring for safety.' And with that, the magician pulled off a gold ring on his finger and presented it to Jialong."

"Wait. What's so special about the ring?" Taiwan asked.

"If you be quiet, I'll tell you," England said.

"Arthur! Don't you talk like that, aru." China scolded.

England frowned. "You're not even in the front room. Stop your harping."

"So Jialong took the ring, and moved the stone slab. He descended the stairs and followed the path. Many a times he was tempted to take some of the treasure, but he remembered his uncle's advice, and did not touch a thing. He came upon a garden of fruit trees, which, of course, were not treasure and he could touch these. He gathered some of the fruit, and continued on until he came upon the lamp. He blew out the light and emptied the oil, now hurrying back to the magician and stopping at the mouth of the cave.

'Quick, boy, hand me the lamp!' the magician said, but Jialong would not give the thing to him until he was safely out of the cave. In a fit of rage, the magician threw more powder across the ground, said a few magic words, and sealed the boy in the cave and left the country.

He was not Jialong's uncle, as he had said, but an evil sorcerer who had read of a magical lamp that could grant him extreme power. He alone knew where it lie, but could not obtain it himself. He had chosen Jialong for the job, intending to kill the boy once he had gotten his hands on the lamp.

For two days Jialong lamented and cried. Finally he clasped his hands in prayer, and in doing so rubbed the ring on his finger. The ring itself was magical, and all at once a large djinn rose from the ground."

"What's a djinn?" America asked.

"A genie," England replied.

" 'What is your bidding?' the djinn asked, 'for I am the slave of the ring, and will obey thee in all things.'

'Deliver me from this wretched place!' And so the djinn did.

Jialong ran as fast as he could home, carrying both the fruit and the lamp, but when he finally reached the threshold he fainted."

"Why didn't he just eat the fruit if he fainted from hunger?" Taiwan asked.

"It makes me sound stupid," Hong Kong mumbled to himself.

"You keep asking questions that will be answered," England said, "Now hush!"

"When he came to, Jialong told his mother what had happened, holding out the lamp to her. He then made mention of his hunger.

'You said you had found fruit,' she pointed out, 'Eat that, for I do not have any food in the house.' The fruit had turned out to be precious stones. 'I have spun some cotton, I will go sell that.' Jialong shook his head no, and bade her to keep the cotton. He could sell the lamp for food. He noticed the smudges of dirt on it, and tried rubbing them off. A second djinn appeared, frightening his mother to the point of fainting.

This djinn was similar to the first, asking what its master wished for. And Jialong said-"

"Are the genies twins?"

"Ohmigodd, Mattie! You just gave me an idea! Can the Genies names be Matthew and Alfred? That'd be sooooo cool!"

"Aren't the djinn supposed to be ugl-"

"Quiet! Let them be the djinn!"

"Alright, alright," England said, watching several conversations go on at once. "You two can play the part of the genies."

America sprung up out of his seat. "Yeah! Genie powers! Pew pew! You're a frog," he said to Taiwan.

Hong Kong became defensive over Taiwan. "She's not a frog. I'm your master, right? I didn't tell you to make her into a frog."

So the bickering started back up.

This time England allowed it to carry its natural course, watching some sort of hierarchy war, and despite his strength, America was bested by Hong Kong and ended up sitting on America, smug not being strong enough of a word to describe the look on his face.

"Anyways," England said.

"And Jialong said 'Fetch me something to eat!' and the Djinn, now suddenly named Alfred, did. And this food was brought upon the finest silver platters and cups and all sorts of other dishes.

When his mother came to, her first question was where the feast had come from. 'From the djinn, mother!' Jialong replied. His mother, still quite shocked from the creature, begged her son to get rid of it, for it was surely the devil's work, and it would bring bad luck.

'It shall do no such thing. Chance should be that I have found this wonderful lamp, and we will live in prosperity!' Jialong claimed, examining one of the silver plates. When they had eaten all the djinn had brought, he sold one of the dishes, then another, and another until they were all gone. He asked the djinn to produce more silver platters, and they lived this way for many years.

One day Jialong heard an order from the Emperor that everyone was to stay at home and close his shutters while the Princess, his daughter, went to and from the bath. Jialong was overcome with the desire to see her face, so he hid behind the door of the bath and spied. There, the pr-"

"Is the Princess supposed to be Xiaomei?" Hong Kong asked. Taiwan giggled and made the boy blush, if only slightly.

"An' is the Emperor Mr. Yao?" America questioned.

"If you want them to be," England replied, shrugging his shoulders.

"There, the princess lifted her veil as she went into the bath, revealing her face. Jialong was instantly smitten with her, and vowed to marry her. He returned to his mother and told her his plan to ask the Emperor his blessing to marry the Princess. She just laughed. But Jialong was determined, and asked her to take the gems to the Emperor and offer them in exchange for Princess Xiaomei.

When his mother was allowed an audience with the Emperor and presented him the jewels, the Emperor was surprised at how beautiful and rare they were. 'Who would be so bold as to value the princess at such a high value, aru?' he said."

There was an angry yelp from the kitchen, but England paid no mind.

" 'I will allow your son to marry my daughter on one condition: your son must first send me forty basins of gold brimful of jewels, carried by forty black slaves, led by as many white ones, splendidly dressed. Tell him that I await his answer, aru.'

Jialong, when hearing this news, turned to the Djinn of the lamp. The Djinn did just that, and waited for more instructions.

'I would also wish for a horse that surpasses the Emperor's, fine clothing for my mother and I, and No less than twenty slaves to attend us, all beautifully dressed.' And so the Djinn made it so.

When they arrived at the palace, the emperor welcomed Jialong with open arms. 'You shall marry my daughter by tonight, aru!' he explained as he led the boy through a hall."

"Arthur."

" 'No, first I must build a palace for her,' Jialong said."

"Arthur."

"Once home-"

"Arthur, aru!" China hissed. "The children are asleep."

England snapped out of his storytelling daze and looked down. China was scooping up Taiwan and Hong Kong into his arms, intending to put them to bed. He looked down at the remaining children, then to England in a "Are you going to get them or not?" fashion. England, his face a bit red for not having realised they were asleep, stood up to go pick them up. America stirred a bit in his sleep when he was transfered from the floor to England's arm, but all was resolved when he wasn't being jostled around so haphazardly anymore.

China led England to the door. "Well, Kirkland. I must thank you for entertaining the children for the hour, aru. I actually got something done."

"Uh, you're welcome, I suppose."

"Francis must be missing Matthew, aru. You'd best return him."

England was about to say something, but China gave him a chaste kiss on the lips. "Good night, Arthur Kirkland."

And then he shut the door on England's face.


End file.
